Lovely Nights
by Mishka of the Maroons
Summary: Events and night-time musings that lead to some lovely nights. Super duper late update now up!
1. Part 1: Time to be Honest

**Lovely Nights **by Duchess Mishka

**Title:** Lovely Nights  
**Rating:** T-ish?  
**Summary**: A series of events and night-time musings that lead to an even lovelier night.  
**Dedication:** For everyone! Even if Christmas has passed, this is my Holiday gift for you guys!

**Author's Notes:** This is my first WIP in a really long time, so please bear with me. I still am not in charge of my schedule, what with all the affiliations I have, but I promise to try my hardest in writing a new chapter every time.  
Leonie, I thought of letting you off the hook for the holiday season. Love you, dearest. I hope all my grammar mistakes won't bother you very much this time.

Anyway, the first part is rather short, but it's just sort of introductory. I will try to write longer chapters next time. BUT, ladies and gents, let me present to you _Lovely Nights_!

~*~

Part One

It was quite peaceful that evening. The moon was shining, emitting a dim light that seemed to slightly brighten up the royal garden. The pathways and turns were relatively visible; the rose bushes, though darkened, were unmistakable. The roses offered a soft glow, a radiance that only added to the beauty and serenity of the night. The breeze was slow-moving, responsible for the cool air that seemed to circle around the garden, and the trees swayed slowly to its gentleness. The palace stood impressively, its towers reaching up to touch the sky; a structure of breathtaking majesty perfectly silhouetted by the stars and a background of the dark blue heavens.

Deeper into the garden was the gazebo, seemingly deserted if one didn't notice the person perched solitarily on one of its benches. It was a woman. She was dressed in an elegant pant suit with a string of pearls sparkling in the moonlight and hanging on her lovely neck, her expression quite impossible to determine. The most obvious feature of the woman, it appeared despite the darkness, was her wonderful nose that made that charming little curve in the end; but if one looked closer, he would then notice the stiffness of her posture, the straightness of her back as she sat rightly on one side, crossing her ankles loosely and hugging herself.

She was there again. For the sixth night in a row, she was there again. Uncaring of changing her clothes, she had consented herself to taking night strolls in the gardens. She had originally only decided for a walk, merely to clear her jumbled feelings, five days ago—but it felt quite good to be left alone with her thoughts, so she had obtained the habit of taking a breath of fresh air every night ever since. And yet that wasn't the only reason. Truth was that she had walked away from him once again. He, her head of security. Joseph. She had once more avoided his tender stare, avoided drowning in his warm, brown eyes that seemed to dive into the depths of her sapphire ones, speaking to her with only the tenderness of his gaze. He had been watching her since that afternoon and it had made her immensely uncomfortable. Although she wasn't normally as conscious, when he was around, it had been absolutely hard not to mind his presence and his concern for her as she buried herself in paperwork. He had offered to help, yet she knew she could never concentrate with him in close proximity, so she had declined his offer and had desperately tried to focus on the work that was needed to be done. Then, while she had walked the short distance of the dining room from her office that evening, he had appeared midway and had escorted her to her destination. When they had reached the kitchen, he took her hand, bowed low and kissed it; he had then wished her a satisfying dinner and he had left. As if branded by his supposedly impersonal kiss on her hand, she had stopped for a few moments to take in the instant flash of events before shaking herself up from her thoughts and proceeding to the dining room. She didn't even have an appetite; instead of food, she had been filled with countless fluttering butterflies, giving her the strangest feelings in her stomach, and right after dinner, she had come to the garden to be alone once more.

So here she was, yes, alone, just as she predicted she would be. Alone to gather her thoughts and think even more. And yet, she realized, aside from matters and affairs of the state, what would she be thinking about? Who would she be thinking about? There was only one person that occupied her mind and her dreams these days. Contrary to what most people said and no matter how guilty she felt, it wasn't Mia. It was him. She hadn't been thinking about anyone but him. They had been friends for a long time with a mutual sense of interest and comfort around each other and having a shared feeling of pleasure and contentment while sitting through innumerable cups of tea together. However, it was only after the king died when they both realized just how important the other was to them. Not since long ago had they been a little more inventive to find reasons to talk and be with each other. At first they didn't really mind; they were friends.

Now, they realized that they were, in fact, more than just friends—they were two people in love.

Oh, in love… at their age. If someone had told her forty years ago that she would fall in love with a man—and not merely being fond of him—now, at her age, she would have laughed at his face. And yet, discovering it on her own, somehow, deep down, she felt relieved; she felt warm and thoroughly, completely, unmistakably in love. She sighed; she couldn't even deny it anymore.

The sound of a twig breaking roused her from her reverie and she looked up to find the man, who occupied nearly her every thought, standing near the entrance of the gazebo.

"Clarisse."

She nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. "Joseph."

"Hello," he said as he walked towards her, placing his hands behind his back and, though she couldn't see his face clearly, smiling a little. "Am I disturbing you?"

She smiled sadly as she noticed the tensing of her own body, feeling the vibrations from low in her stomach. "No, not at all." She took in a silent but sharp breath as he seated himself beside her, their bodies not touching but reaching out.

He took in her appearance as he sat down beside her—even through the dimness, she was gorgeous as ever. Her legs were uncrossed, her hands moving a tad restlessly on her lap, and she looked as if gazing at something far away. His position granted him a view of her adorable nose and her eyes that sparkled softly in the dim light… and then he noticed her posture, the rigidity of her back and her deep breathing. He closed his eyes. Did he interrupt her? He surely hoped not.

Somehow, she couldn't stop fidgeting. He was just too close; too close for her to become even a little more comfortable. She was sure he was dressed in his black attire, he always is. What shook her equanimity was his voice that seemed huskier than usual. It sounded hoarse, nice… sexy, if she had to name it something. Good Lord, what was she even thinking? She blushed, thanking that someone above for the relative darkness of the place, or she was sure to be embarrassed to have him see her like this—like what? Like a schoolgirl with her first crush. She shook her head. There are just so many things that annoyed her even to the slightest.

One of those annoying instances was now—the pauses within their conversations—it annoyed her, and yet, at the same time, it excited her. The things that needed to be said were all in those pauses. No words were exchanged, but still, they were talking. No matter how hard they tried to not think about it, they knew.  
An exchange between a man and woman who understood each other need not any words. The only problem is that they were too scared to soften things up and admit it to each other… truth be told, they were even too scared to admit it to themselves.

He took a deep breath and she tilted her head to look at him. "How have you been?" he asked softly, leaning his own head slightly to gaze at her. She looked quite sad, lonely, and he awaited her answer with a calmness that even he was quite surprised to feel.

"I've been fine. Quite tired, yes, but fine," she replied, weighing her answer. "And you?"

"I've been good, thank you." He smiled; that charming smile that she loved so much. She blushed and looked away, resisting the urge to stare into his eyes and see the love reflected so beautifully in them. Warmth spread in her stomach—that love, she knew, was intended only for her. Her heart skipped at the thought and she gave a small inward sigh. Oh, she loved him. She loved him with all her heart and yet… and yet she wouldn't tell him; or at least, not yet.

Ever since that one afternoon in San Francisco a few months ago, the tension in the air seemed to grow ten times more. The air was always charged and electric, as if saying that with one wrong move they could actually be electrocuted. The water that they were treading on was very dangerous; sweet and clear, yes, but undeniably risky. One move and their whole lives could change—for the better or for the worse, they didn't know. What they did know was that, no matter how dangerous the thought was, they couldn't live without the other anymore. And it was precisely this thought that terrified them; how one person could actually reduce them to a state of dependence that neither had seen coming. It was the odd realization that they didn't simply want the other—they loved each other, they needed each other to live. Those simple thoughts shook them and seemed to cause every nerve ending in their bodies to become acutely sensitized each time a gust of the cold breeze passed, and with every fleeting second, the truth seemed to come closer to the surface. Perhaps it was time to be honest.

Joseph closed his eyes, took a deep, lingering breath and started to speak. "I need to tell you something, Clarisse." His voice was husky and serious, causing her to turn her head and look at him, wondering suddenly why he sounded quite strained, uncertain and, though not that much obvious, sad. He on the other hand didn't want to continue what he wanted to say, it was just too much to risk the friendship they had formed. She waited for him to speak again, the butterflies in her stomach increasing in number and sensation, but when the pause had been too long for her comfort, she promptly asked him to continue.

"Joseph?"

"It's no use," he said, shaking his head in despair, his voice cracking as if he wanted to sob. "I'm sorry…" She looked at him fully now, her body turning, too, to face him.

"Joseph…" she urged him gently once more, feeling somehow worried when he leaned forward and covered his face with his hands, his elbows resting heavily on his knees. He shook his head again and took a deep breath as if weighing serious decisions to make. As much as she didn't want to, Clarisse gave into impulse and gently laid her hand on his upper arm, and though she knew he couldn't see her, smiled considerately.

"I don't think we can keep on pretending, Clarisse," he stated suddenly, feeling the growing lump in his throat and the increasing heat in his eyes. He was now facing her fully, his hand grasping hers that was on his arm. She stared at him, quite puzzled while waiting for him to continue. "At least, I don't think I could keep my secret from you anymore."

She shook her head. "I… I don't understand." She blinked at him and, even with the darkness, he could see the confusion in her eyes. "Joseph, what are you—"

"I love you," he said, interrupting her in mid-sentence with a statement that was so simple and yet so much more profound at the same time.

She stared at him, tears gathering in her eyes and her mouth opened slightly. He continued. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't deny it any longer." He looked at her in the eyes with an intensity that dissolved every ounce of resolve she possessed. "I have fallen in love with you, Clarisse."

She shook her head. "Joseph… I… no…" she whispered. She was crying openly now, her body shaking from her sobs.

"Clarisse…"

She had every reason to back out and run away from him and yet her heart told her otherwise, even as her mind protested. Then she was in his arms, crying and gripping his shirt. He held her, transmitting his love for her while gently stroking her back for comfort. He buried his face in her hair and she in his neck.

She recounted all the times they had together, the conversations and the looks; she loved him so much that her heart swelled at his quiet admission earlier. He was right, it was no use pretending and denying what should have been long ago. It took her months, even years to admit it fully to herself that she was in love with him, and now that the time has come for her to finally tell him what she's been feeling, she couldn't let the chance pass by anymore.

Her smile was wobbly as she stared tenderly into his eyes. "I don't know what to do, Joseph, but I think…" Her voice was quivering as she struggled to speak, her breathing heavy and laboured. "…I think I've fallen in love with you, too…"

They smiled.

_To be continued…_

~*~

So, uh, I hope you like the first part. Reviews would be nice. Kidding. Happy Holidays, everyone!


	2. Part 1 (cont'd): What Now?

Author's Notes: This is NOT part 2 yet! This short thing here is just sort of a continuation for part 1—just something to get you through the New Year and the first weeks of the month. :D I don't know if I could finish part 2 by the end of January (even though that is far too long), so I thought of giving you something to read while I continue to work on part 2. I wanted this to originally be in the first post, but I had then decided otherwise. Now, though, I think it is quite appropriate to add, and besides, I think the occasion calls for it, don't you? :D

I really hope you like this as a consolation for a while… *;)) Please, please, please be a little more patient with me! Everything is happening all at the same time, demanding tons of concentration and attention, and it's so confusing when you have to think of what task or event to prioritize. ;) Yes, it's absolutely busy being a student. Have fun and enjoy!

~*~

Maybe she had dozed off for a while, he wasn't exactly sure. For the past fifteen minutes everything had been very quiet; he didn't speak as he held her and she relished in the silence, content of being in his arms _at last._ Though they knew that someone could walk in on them anytime, for some reason, they didn't mind. They were with each other, finally, and they wanted to savor the moment before their responsibilities cry out again for their attention.

It seemed like hours since they had found each other and, even though only fifteen minutes have passed, they felt utterly at peace—everything had felt perfect during those fifteen minutes of surprising familiarity. What they were experiencing was heartwarming bliss and pure love, and nothing could ever change that.

He closed his eyes and kissed the side of her head. This was just too good to be true.

She had told him she loved him and that was what's most important right now. She didn't reject him; on the contrary, she accepted him, accepted his love for her, and right after her emotional confession, she had moved into his arms and held him. He had smiled and no words had been exchanged between them. Sighs of joy and love echoed in the cold evening air and, oh, it was just perfect. Everything, they felt, was so completely attuned to their state of mind: the air, the privacy, the atmosphere—it was as if they had been negotiated to radiate perfection at a time like this. In one way or another, the whole thing was simply romantic—a sharp contrast to the rather anxious atmosphere of when he had arrived earlier.

~*~

From a distance, a cricket sounded, interrupting the comfortable silence in the gazebo. She decided to speak.

"Joseph?"

"Hmm?"

"What do we do now?" Her words didn't surprise him. After all, even though they were Joseph and Clarisse, a man and a woman in love, they were still the Head of Security and his Queen, the employee and his employer.

"We love each other." He smiled at her, pulling from their embrace to look her in the eyes. "We just have to do so without anyone knowing about it."

She smiled rather sadly, then cast her eyes downward and sighed. "Do you think we can do it?" Her question was sincere and he felt the seriousness of it flowing from the familiar hint of fear in her eyes. She was scared and he knew exactly why. Someone might find out about them and ruin what they had just begun. It was risky enough to be out here in the open, even if it WAS dark, but it would even be more risky for her to engage in a clandestine love affair with her bodyguard. There's just too much at stake, but they are willing to take chances knowing that, right now, with what they have just established, it was too difficult to throw away their love after having just found it.

"If we love each other enough, we can do it." He reached down and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "And, God, Clarisse, you don't know how much I love you." He smiled and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Her face was very soft, softer than velvet it seemed—oh, years of beauty creams and beauty treatments and those stuff which he knew nothing about—but he didn't particularly care. She was beautiful in every sense of the word, brave yet tender at the same time, lovable, caring, intelligent, witty on occasion and with a lovely sense of humour; and he loved her simply for that. She wasn't just his queen, she was the someone that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"I do. It's just as much as I love you, Joseph." She breathed, cupping his cheek lovingly in an age-old gesture of affection. She gazed into the depths of his eyes and, for a moment, saw his desire flicker in them. Oh, good Lord, this man wanted her and, unsurprisingly, she wanted him just as much. There was no sense of using buckets and buckets of self-control when they were alone now, each knew what the other had hidden from them all these years, and it felt wonderful to finally push it away from the shadows.

From a farther distance, another cricket sounded, joining the first one in its singing, both of them sounding weirdly melodious in the stillness of the night. The two people in the gazebo still sat, staring at each other in silence until he spoke.

"Am I free to do what we both want, Clarisse?" he asked, his desire to kiss her now coming out in flames. At her slight nod, he grinned a silly grin and leaned down.

He moved with agonizing slowness, postponing the moment of truth. He knew that once they fought together in this battle, there would be no turning back. He was giving her some space to see for herself if she really wanted this, if this should happen. And she did, she DID want this to happen. Meeting him halfway, Clarisse held her breath as their lips finally made contact and they were surrounded by a haze of wonder. Time stood still, it seemed.

His kiss was soft at first, feather-light, and she felt his mouth caress hers, dropping little kisses on her upper lip, burning her reluctance away and making her surrender to the intensity as well as the tenderness of his love for her. His lips were moist and yielding and it made her feel as if she was floating in heaven. Perhaps she was. He tilted his head and slanted his mouth across hers, deepening the kiss with her permission granted. Ah, the point of no return. She moaned in reply and deepened the kiss herself as well, their tongues dueling first in the warm cavern of her mouth, then parted, only to convene and tangle again in his. She felt dizzy and giddy, and she tightened her arms around him so as not to fall off the bench in a trance. Their hearts had interwoven into a tight rope right there on that bench, and she did not want to fall off away from it.

They were one, finally and forevermore, his mouth and hers possessing each other with an urgency and a passion that neither had experienced for years. They kissed in abandon, their tongues snaking in and out of each other's mouths, sending a shocking thrill to course through their bodies and warming their stomachs in less than a minute. They loved each other and there was no doubt about that anymore. They could and would do what it takes to make that love blossom—even in the darkness of the shadows.

The need for air had overpowered their need for each other, however, and they separated; their lips warm and swollen, their breathing once more heavy and laboured for the second time that fateful night.

"Clarisse, I…" he whispered, unable to continue, breathless. She felt a tear run down her cheek and she rested her forehead against his, taking a deep breath.

"I know, Joseph. I know."

They looked at each other straight in the eyes and smiled affectionately. This was real. This was definitely their reality and this was their dream come true.

_To be continued…_


	3. Part 2: It's a Date

**Author's Notes:** Can you just believe it? I can't! I wrote this piece yeeeeears ago, as sequel to the first part of this story! Now, life interfered and I've been MIA here on FF for quite some time and now that I'm back I find out I posted the second part on the JAO forum but not here! Goodness, I must be really crazy. *rolls eyes*

Really, really sorry! I think it's high time I post this... after all, a third part is in the works. ;) This one isn't very emotional, it's not as exciting as the first two chappies, but I guess it will suffice. Enjoy! :)

* * *

Part Two

The remnants of winter continued to hang in the air and, though the snow has stopped its descent since the middle weeks of January, the cold air still moved about the gardens and around the palace, coercing most of the residents to stay cooped up inside the walls of the ancient building. The days still had its moments of gray skies and starless nights, and the birds that usually welcomed the arrival of spring have not yet arrived from their journey around the world, finding places where there are bright sunny skies and warmer hours of darkness.

Ever since the start of time, February has always been a rather dull month in the royal palace of Genovia. There were never much events or activities participated in by the staff and the royal family. The month of hearts, love and interest has often been left empty, if not for an affair or two, in the background features of the event calendar. Although the people managed to show courtship and merriment in a subtler and less festive way than other countries around the world, the concept of the celebrating love and affection never left their minds and are still incorporated into the staff's February schedule.

Even the queen has a slot in her calendar for a certain quiet date. Of course, it was private and only two people know about it—that was herself and her head of security.

He had approached her that morning, citing security reasons, but once he was inside her office, he didn't even say a single word. He had neared her desk, meeting her rather puzzled blue eyes and smiling that charming smile of his. He stopped and just looked at her, letting his love surface from the deep recesses of his being for her to see. Then, he had touched her hand, pulling her from her chair, and had slipped a note into her hand before he had engulfed her in a warm, loving embrace, cherishing the moment as she wound her arms around him, too. The butterflies arrived before long.

Now, reading the short note in her hands, she couldn't deny the fact that she was utterly anxious and excited about this meeting. He would be at her door in a few minutes and every single part of her body tingled in nervous anticipation. She had never tried this sort of thing, since Rupert had never taken the time to privately take her to dinner before thought of marriage—and all throughout their married life, their dinners were always public and guarded by the press. This time with Joseph, however, would be as secret as a pearl inside a mother clam; a clandestine dinner date, lovely… and, most of all, intimate.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she was dressed properly for the occasion. Feeling the familiar string of pearls around her neck, she smiled. The little black dress had a wonderful empire cut with a wide, rounded neckline, was knee-length, and made of a flowing, flimsy material and of silk—it looked heavenly on her figure, hiding the parts where gravity had made its pull. She wore very light make-up, showing just how nature had been kind to her, and her natural glow and beauty showed in all their glory.

A knock suddenly sounded on her door, interrupting the mental observations of her appearance. She turned towards the sound, and the warm note in the lowest parts of her stomach erupted into thousands of butterflies; she felt warm and slightly giddy in her nervousness. Walking the short distance to the door, her knees buckled underneath her—she was still quite blank. She didn't know what to expect, didn't know what to do. This was the moment she's been waiting for. God help her.

* * *

The first thing he saw as she opened the door was her smile—her warm yet apprehensive smile. It was actually a little comforting to know that he wasn't the only one anxious about this meeting. True, this date wasn't his first, but it made him feel like a nervous wreck nonetheless. This was Clarisse, for heaven's sake, and he didn't want to cause her any sort of disappointment regarding tonight. He had been waiting for this moment for far too long and he didn't want to mess it up.

"Hello," he said, holding out a beautiful bouquet of fresh red roses to her, smiling handsomely. Her smile widened as she accepted the flowers. She closed the door behind her as he moved further into the hallway, pausing to wait for her.

"Where will we be going?" The question was simply, simply Clarisse—and it made him realize that the night has, in fact, definitely started.

He turned to look at her; she didn't move from her position, her back against the door as she awaited his answer, her eyebrows rising in discreet excitement, her eyes sparkling in the warm light. Those same eyes sparkled even more in sweet affection and slight annoyance as she heard his answer, "You will know soon." She was not used to being teased, but he knew she loved every moment of it. He could read it in her eyes. He smiled. So did she. For a moment there, he swore he could have drowned in her eyes, locked in the haze of genuine love that she was showing him. However, he knew that if he didn't stop this staring match, they would never get to their destination, so he broke the silence. "Well, shall we go?" Offering her his arm, together they walked towards the privacy of the royal gardens.

* * *

The tension between them increased a thousand times more, enhancing the closeness of their proximity. She kept her eyes down, avoiding his eyes, for she knew that she would lose herself in them as she had experienced every time she looked at him before.

"So where are we really going?" she asked as they reached the curve past the gazebo. He replied with a dazzling smile, looking at her teasingly, lovingly, as he led her to yet another bend. He caressed her hand which was resting on her arm, and this time she looked at him. Her bright eyes were wide, gleaming and, for lack of a better word, innocent, and he had to restrict himself not to kiss her right then and there.

They arrived at a little crossing by the edge of the garden and saw a little black buggy awaiting them. Clarisse gasped a little in surprise at the elegant little thing and he smiled at her apparent delight at having to ride another car besides the protocol limousine, opened the door for her and led her inside. He walked around the front, onto the driver's seat and drove them towards the lake.

"Oh, Joseph, this is wonderful," she exclaimed as, upon reaching the lake, she saw a table set for two, with a beautiful candelabra decorating the centre of the table and providing wondrous, yellowish light on the painted china. The food and wine were beside the little portable radio on another table, the latter producing such romantic music. She turned towards him, a beautiful smile gracing her delicately pink lips. She reached out to hold his hand and the instant their hands touched, she felt warm, beautiful, loved. Nobody had ever made her feel this way—mere touch, a very small connection, and she would feel herself starting to melt into a puddle at her feet. She felt her cheeks grow warm and she bent her head to hide the faint tinge of pink that betrayed her inner thoughts of being as discreet as possible.

He smiled. Clarisse was trying unsuccessfully to hide the blush tinting her cheeks and his manly pride beamed at her reaction to his surprise. Oh, he loved her. She squeezed her hand as she led her to sit on a chair. He took the food from the other table, sat down and poured the wine. The moment he placed the wine bottle on the wine holder, their eyes met and they smiled. They stared at each other for a few seconds, their eyes mirroring the love they have for each other, until the music ended and started another beat. In silence, they ate a sumptuous meal, the occasional glance victorious every now and then.

He loved hearing her laugh. The music that came with it, a melodious, slightly husky sound, never failed to warm his spirits up and to make him forget all his troubles. This time was not an exception.

After their dinner, they had regaled each other with stories of their childhood, the mischievous little pranks that they had set up as a child, the experiences they had in school and the happenings in their houses. Clarisse had been rather giggly all throughout Joseph's monologue, which told of all the mischief he had been up to and all the trouble he had gotten into. She had smiled, chuckled and laughed at his stories and he felt simply like he was in heaven. "Oh, Joseph!" she would say, laughing. They have never had a more enjoyable dinner in their entire lives.

Now, as their laughter slowly subsided, Joseph thought it would be nice to conclude the night with a dance, so he got up and extended his hand to a rather bemused Clarisse. She looked at his hand and then to his face, and smiled at his eagerness. She placed her hand on his and stood up and he led her towards the lakeshore. The moon beaming down at them, reflecting a dim light onto the calm waters, and the wonderful music created an even more romantic atmosphere as they stood there gazing at each other.

"I love you," he said. She smiled and he could see her eyes moisten as she continued to look at him.

"I love you."

He placed his hand around her waist, drawing her close to the warmth of his body. She wound an arm around his neck, tickling his nape with her fingers, and her other hand was encased firmly in his. They swayed gently to the music, her forehead resting against his chin, both their eyes closed to savor their moment of nirvana.

Before they left, they looked back at the lake one more time and smiled. Oh, what a wonderful night.

* * *

So... drop me a little review? :D


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